Let's Not Meet: A True Horror Podcast - 3x18: Don't Open The Door - Let's Not Meet

Episode Date: March 9, 2020

Stories in this episode: Prison Horror Story - Ges613. Don't Open The Door - OfKore. Someone Tried To Break In - Anon. Follow Let's Not Meet: - Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/groups/433173970399259/  - Twitter - https://twitter.com/letsnotmeetcast  - Website - http://letsnotmeetpodcast.com  - Patreon - http://patreon.com/letsnotmeetpodcast  - Merch - https://www.teepublic.com/user/letsnotmeet 

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I'm a 21-year-old male. It was July 4, 2019. I live in Kansas in the US. At the time, I worked as a corrections officer at a maximum security prison on the night shift. The cell house that I was in charge of was the maximum general population, one man to a cell. This is where murderers, rapists, and overall the worst of society were housed. Before work, I was doing the typical American Fourth of July thing, grilling, blowing up fireworks, I had a beer or two, having a great time with my now wife and family. My wife kept telling me I needed to just call and sick and take the day off without pay. I said no, because we were a little behind on the bills. I really wish I would have listened to her now.

As the night went on, it came time for us to leave my moms, and for me to go home and get ready for work. I took my wife home and dropped her off. Then I got ready for work. My wife's car was broken down, so she was stuck at home for the night. My wife's car was broken down so she was stuck at home for the night. As I drove to work, which was about an hour away, I watched the fireworks going off all around. It was sad. I had never had to go into work on the fourth before. After I got to work, I got all my equipment and I got into my cell house.

Businesses usual. In mates were showered and locked up. I got my night cleaning crew out so they could clean the rest of the cell house, and then I met up with my partner for the night and the officer station to get our briefing from the last shift. Fast forward about an hour into my shift. So it's now right around 12.30 am.m. Another officer came into the cell house, so now there's three of us. This happened often on my night shift, as there was nothing

to do except the rounds every half hour or so. Out of nowhere, we hear an inmate laughing like a witch, like a cackle. That was strange, but nothing to be alarmed with. Drugs were a bad problem in that facility. Eventually, after a few more cackles, I decided to go see who was making the sound in case they were high. I walked through and checked all 200 inmates. Nothing.

There were a small few that were even awake. So I brushed it off and just went back to my office. My partner and the other officer were asking if there was anyone that needed their cells searched. I couldn't think of anyone in particular as suspected of having anything, so I went and checked all the cells again to see if I could get a whiff of smoker, see anything. As I was walking on the second story's cell run, I found an inmate that was acting weird. He was in his bed facing the wall, talking. This was also common, as there were a lot of inmates with minor mental issues.

I figured he was high because he turned and looked at me and told me to fuck off. I was going to leave him alone, but the disrespect made me change my mind. The time is now 12.40am, July 5th. I walked back to the office and tell the other two officers which cell that he was in, and I wanted him to be searched, cell 218. So how the cell house is laid out, is there are a hundred cells per level. From the officer station, you can see the north side, first and second floor, but you can't see the south side unless you walk 50 feet over to it. Picture the movie Shawshank Redemption type cell house, except instead of being able to

look through and see cells across from you, you just see a wall. The cells are literally back to back. As the officers pull him out to search his cell, I went to the ground floor and I was watching from below. The only protection from going over the edge was the handrail. I noticed the inmate was taking forever to get out of his cell. He came out in shorts in a do-wreck, which is weird, because he wasn't fully clothed. He didn't even put on sandals, just shorts in a do-wreck.

Yet took five minutes to get out. That made me nervous. The inmate was six-foot tall, 250 pounds. It was a muscle-bound dude. He definitely had size on us. So from the ground, I holler at him and tell him to come down to the ground, and that he could use his phone or check his email. He declined my offer, which never happens.

I knew something was up. He was watching them search his cell from the control panel box. This was alarming. They were in his cell and I was on the ground. He could have easily ambushed them and he would have made it to them before I could even get up the stairs.

So I tried to keep them safe, and I went up stairs to the inmate. He was standing in the corner, away against the handrail at the top of the stairs. He knew that I was the officer in charge of that cellhouse, and he knew I was the one that saw him talking to himself. He asked me why I was having his cell searched. I lied. I said, it's nothing personal, man. I have a quoted of Phil for his cell searched in a night. And you were awake, so I chose to have you searched. It'll just take a second. He was uneasy. He was pacing, something wasn't right. Then I saw it. In his do-rag, a Samsung logo reflecting in the cellhouse light. Shit, I knew there was

going to be a problem as soon as I saw it. He had a cell phone. I called over the radio for two additional officers to come to me. The inmate didn't seem to notice that I made a call. My supervisors responded saying two of them were on their way. Side note, at this time, only segregation officers had protective vests. So out of the five of us that were now in there, only one had a vest. I was not that one. The officers' names were South McCormick, Collins, Sheffield, and me. The time now is 12.58am. As soon as South and McCormick got up to me, I told the inmate to turn around and cuff

up. South and McCormick were on the inmate's right side. I was in front of him. Why?" he angrily asked me. I refused to give him a reason at first. After a few minutes, I had had enough. I told him, look, man, I can see the cell phone in your do-rag. You know you're not supposed to have that.

The inmate then gets a defeated look on his face, but a fire in his eyes. His body relaxes, and he slowly reaches up to retrieve the phone. But does he pull the phone out? No. He pulls out a six-inch, sharpened metal rod with ripped fabric wrapped around the bottom as a handle. Everything froze for me. I knew I was going to die. Everything starts moving again, and I now have an inmate twice my size, charging me, thrusting quickly, repeatedly towards me. Oh, shit, was all I managed to yell.

I immediately went to defensive mode, trying to grab his arm and disarm him. His wrist kept slipping. I couldn't keep a hold of it, but at least I managed to block his attempts at my lower abdomen. Suddenly, he aimed high and went from my chest. I felt it make contact. I had just been stabbed and the right part of my chest. Spray him. I yelled at the top of my lungs. McCormick was already working on spraying the MK9 OC spray. For my military readers, you know what I mean. For others, MK9 comes as a pressured spray bottle at about 20 full ounces.

You can buy it at camping stores in the USA. It's called Bear Spray. It's the stuff that you spray into Bear's eyes so that you can get away. South had come up behind the inmate, grabbed him around his chest, and pulled him backwards, right as McCormick sprayed. I didn't realize it at the time, but the spray hit me, the inmate, and South as well. I was able to turn and run. I ran around the stair railing past the panel box, and out into the run of cells on the second story. I ran past a few cells and turned around to see that he wasn't charging me, but South was wrestling him to the ground while gagging on the OC as was I and McCormick.

Sheffield, having heard the commotion, came running out of the cell. He saw what was happening and ran into help. The inmate grabbed South by the vest and tried to throw him over the end of the landing, but South dropped to his knees before he went over. I grabbed my shoulder mic and screamed into it. Level A responds to Charlie II now. This batch said something back, but I didn't hear it. I started to charge back to help save South, but before I could get away from the cell that

I was in front of, Collins grabbed me from behind and told me not to go. Due to the layout of the runs, I didn't see but sheffield grabbed the inmate from behind and body slammed him on his face, then began cuffing him. As soon as Collins let me go, I stood still and watched. Up the stairs came four more officers, the captain and a lieutenant. The lieutenant came and asked me what happened. I started to explain, but he cut me off after he saw blood coming out of my left arm. After taking me out of the cell house, he made

me lift my shirt because of the blood that he saw. He examined all of my wounds. He had me remove all of my equipment and the old paper towels on my arm. I was rushed to the ER. I was able to grab my phone out of the car. I called my wife and told her what was happening. She called my parents and siblings. Luckily the injuries weren't too bad. I was stabbed four times. Once on my left arm, just below my elbow, that was through and through. The blade went in one side and out the other, twice on the top of my hand, and the one that hit my chest went into the skin and hit one of my ribs, keeping it away from my lungs.

Out of the 37 plunges, I think it's safe to say that I'm lucky to be here writing this story. I didn't sleep for two days following the event. I still have nightmares almost daily. I'm always paranoid. I openly carry again now. After my attack, I was forced to resign for safety reasons. Everyone state why that works in maximum security prisons now has vests. Court is coming up soon to add three more attempted murders to the guy. Turns out he was a shot-caller for the Crips' gang. But to the man that stabbed me, I newest pint-sized flavor from Blue Bell.

This delicious coffee ice cream blends dark chocolate flavored chunks and a coffee-fudge swirl. It's the Jolt you need to make it through your day. So skip the coffee and grab a pint of Bluebell Java Jolt. Look for Bluebell ice cream at your favorite grocer if you can't find it, ask for it. I've never really told the story, at least not completely, but it's something that I still think about from time to time and it still haunts me.

I used to work as a manager at a fast food place and a rather city part of a medium-sized city. I worked at the nicer location until they decided to transfer me, and there were rumors that the location I ended up getting sent to was going to be shut down, which did end up happening a few years later, after I had finally left. Anyway, the point is that the place wasn't being well taken care of. The dining room was dated and old, and the owners were certainly not updating or maintaining the place very well. They were just barely maintaining the very basic safety requirements, and sometimes they weren't at all.

For example, I often worked a closing shift, which for this location at the time was 4pm to midnight. Between 7pm and 11pm, it was me running the drive-through and a front counter by myself, and one employee running the kitchen. At 11 pm, that other employee would go home, and I was left by myself to tidy up and do the deposit between 11 pm and 12 pm. This isn't very safe, and I'm not sure it was even entirely legal at the time. And I'm not sure it was even entirely legal at the time. This was over a decade ago, so who knows?

Just to provide a little context and background here, I'm a girl and I'm not what you would consider small. I'm six foot. And during this time, I think people would probably say I come across as more than a little stern. I was younger, but I'd already spent years working in fast food, getting treated like crap by customers and having drinks in food thrown at me. This location that I worked at was swarming with junkies and drug dealers and just general scary behavior. All of this to say I didn't get ruffled that easily, and I took a lot of things in stride. However, on this night I was working the night shift with a new guy. The new guy had probably been working there for no more than a few weeks. I'd worked with him a few times before,

but never a closing shift, and from the first time I had met him, I'd always gotten a strange vibe from him. And again, I'm not someone who, at the time, got ruffled easily. Prior to this, I had worked with a night shift janitor at the other location, who'd had an adderol addiction and was rather unpredictable, and had a scary rage problem. And some creepy in-sale kid who barely spoke more than two words at the time. And when he did, it was always something about how much he disliked women and me in particular, not in exaggeration.

But this guy, this new dude, he was a whole different level of weird. He had a kid and professed to being a single father. He brought the kid around during the day and the kid and his clothing were always really dirty, like really dirty. And not only that, the kid also occasionally had bruises on his head and arms. The kid was a toddler. And I know that toddlers can get into things, but one look at that kid and I knew that those bruises were not from a kid messing around.

I never saw the guy behave aggressively towards the kid at all, but I don't know. It was just a feeling. And that feeling translated into other things. I don't know. He was just creepy. It wasn't one thing in particular. It was just a feeling that I got when I was around him. He was a medium height, stocky young guy.

He was totally average in every way, but he just had a vibe about him. He was always friendly, never rude or aggressive, but his eyes were just lifeless, for lack of a better descriptor. Anyways, on this night, I think he might have been called in to cover a shift for someone else. I was in charge of making the schedules most of the time, and I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have scheduled him to work a closing shift with me since I found him so off-putting. The first part of the night was fairly normal. I ran the drive-through, and the front counter,

and he ran the kitchen between 8 and 11 p.m. He was talking to me on and off, between orders, telling me about his ex and how he'd come to be a single father. Apparently, the mother of his child had a drug problem. In hindsight, I think a lot of what he said was meant to inspire sympathy. He really laid the troubled tail of him and his son on thick. But at the time, I just felt a little bad for both of them. Especially the kid, who I suspected was being abused, but despite being a stern as I was, I was also definitely still young and naive when it came to manipulative people. He told me that he'd moved to the city and immediately had trouble finding work prior to getting a job at the place that we worked at. He said he'd been running out of money, and he was behind on rent bills and didn't

have any formula for his son. At the time, I think I was empathizing with him, and I said that it sucked. We were both working in fast food, and I thought it was obvious that neither of us had any money. The place was bare bones minimum wage, and I was barely getting by with the three roommates that I had, and only pretty much eating the free meal that I was given from the restaurant every day. Anyway, he laid it on thick that night, but I don't know that I was really paying attention all that much. People tended to ramble when working the

late shift, and I'd gotten used to listening to people spontaneously talk about their personal problems. I had a habit of just listening and not really reciprocating the sharing, and I guess this didn't really go over well with the new guy. At some point, the new guy said something to the effective, you don't talk much, do you? I'm telling you my whole life story here and you've got nothing to say. Now, I don't know if I was just coming across as unsympathetic, but he wasn't successfully manipulating me into giving up personal details about myself. As far as I was concerned, he was just someone that I was working with,

and I didn't know him, I didn't really want him to know me, and certainly I wasn't about to start telling him anything that wasn't surface level chit chat. But the guy was really intimidating. Something about his tone was off. It definitely wasn't a joky accusation or off the cuff comment. I can't remember exactly what I said, but I remember that I just tried to play it off somehow. He didn't say anything more about it, but after that the silence between us became a little tense. At 11 p.m. it was time for him to go home. The normal procedure was that the kitchen closer would tidy up the area and At 11pm, it was time for him to go home. The normal procedure was that the kitchen closer would tidy up the area, and an actual

kitchen cleaner would come in a few hours later to deep clean things. In our case, it was a husband and wife team who did several locations, but they didn't usually come until a few hours after I left. So this guy was only tasked with a basic tidy, and then I would let him out, after which I would stay behind and prepare the deposit. But instead of this happening smoothly, this guy goes into the staff bathroom and stays there for a long while, like almost 20 minutes. I didn't know what was going on, nor did I know exactly how to handle the situation. It had honestly never happened before. People

usually could not get out of there fast enough at the end of the night. Was he sick? Did he fall asleep? I don't know, but I honestly just wanted to get my work done and go home. He finally emerged and quickly walked to the door and left. I was relieved. It was weird, but I just shrugged it off and hurried back into the office to get done what needed to get done. Not ten minutes later, I hear a banging at the back door of the restaurant. Loud, repeated banging. Normally I would ignore this. The back door

faced an alley and was right next to a street full of bars and pubs. People leaving the bars and pubs often got the idea that banging on the door would get them after hours food service because, well, they were drunk. So this wasn't necessarily uncommon. So I just ignored it and I kept hurrying to get things done. But the banging did not stop. And it somehow seemed to get louder and louder and more urgent. So I finally got up and went to look out the people to see who was there. At this point, I was definitely on edge and this edginess swelled into a full-out anxiety attack when I see that the guy standing at the door is the new guy. Now, my first thought was to not open the door. I really didn't want to open the door, but I knew that he knew I was there. What if he forgot something inside? What if it was his

house keys? His car keys or something like that? I was going to have to leave the building by that same door at some point. So there really seemed to be no escaping him. So reluctantly and very stupidly, yes, I know, trust me. I opened the door. What I opened the door to was quite frankly, terrifying. He said, he left his jacket, or his keys maybe, I can't remember, inside, and I told him to tell me where, and I go get them. I didn't want him to come inside. If this had been any other person that I worked with regularly, this would be no big deal.

I'd let them back in, let them get whatever they left behind, and they'd take off, but I instinctively knew I didn't want this guy back inside in the dark, in this empty restaurant with me. But the new guy was not having it. He pushed past me, and he said that he'd get it himself. Then he proceeded to shut himself in the bathroom again. And at this point, I panicked. Instead of just staying there by the door, which in hindsight I should have,

I rushed back into the office. Stupid girl, that's me, had left some cash that I was counting for the deposit out. Question, what dummy would answer the back door at night, and especially with a till out? This girl, I guess, this dumb girl. I managed to stuff the cash and the safe and lock it before he came to find me. The office was dark, it was summer, and the air conditioning was on full blast, but this guy was sweating a lot. I was taller than him, and I'm not a small girl, but somehow I just knew that this guy was about to hurt me. He was keyed up. As I watched his eyes start around the office, I grabbed my jacket hanging on the hook next to me. I hadn't finished the deposit, but I was getting out of there. I didn't care how much

shit I was going to get into in the morning for my work not being done. I smiled and told him that I was just leaving and that he could walk me out. I was really just trying not to show my panic. Whatever he had planned, I wanted to give him an out to rethink it. So I smiled, grabbed my purse, and started to move towards the door. The new guy, who was standing in the doorway, did not budge. He started talking, though, about his son, about the money trouble that he had been having, and he kept the whole story off with a request for, a quote-unquote, loan. From the tone of his voice it was clear this was not a loan. He was demanding money from me.

He said he would pay me back as soon as he got paid and that I'd really be helping him out. I didn't know what to do. He had me trapped. I wasn't leaving the office or the building unless he allowed it. Or at this point at least, I wasn't leaving without a fight. Something told me that despite my height difference, I wasn't going to win. So I gave him money from my wallet, $50 I think.

When I gave it to him, he said, thanks, you're really helping me and my son out. I won't forget it. But when he said it, he had no expression, no smile, no speech effect at all. He didn't seem grateful or even relieved, just dead eyes, limp arms at his sides. It was terrifying. To this day, I don't remember how I got him to the door. All I remember was shutting the door behind him, making sure the door was securely locked, and rushing into the office and bursting into tears. I didn't finish my work, but I stayed there until I could force myself to leave at the same door. I was sure he was going to jump at me when I left. The thought never occurred to me to call the cops. I don't know why, I guess, I just felt like nothing serious had actually happened yet.

He'd asked me for some money, and I willingly gave it to him, despite the fact that I felt I had no choice and had been scared shitless. I saw him one more time after that, but neither of us ever mentioned that night or the money. I don't know why I didn't ask for it back. I think I was embarrassed or scared, or both. I don't know. I don't think I've ever told anyone this story, or at least if I have, I definitely left at the part where I gave him money and never got it back. Pretty quickly after that, he stopped showing up to his shifts and I never saw him again. I don't believe in throwing words like psychopath around. I think people overuse psychological

terms like that, making them just synonymous with anyone who is just horribly behaved. And there are a lot of varying degrees of terribly behaved people in this world, unfortunately. But after taking a lot of abnormal sight classes, I can say that there was definitely something about this guy's effect that was just wrong for lack of a better term. I'd smile, heat smile, I'd frown, and heat frown. It was almost like talking to someone pantomiming emotions. Maybe I'm just remembering it that way because it was such a terrifying experience,

but the truth is I've never been comfortable talking about this event. And to this day, when I think about it, I feel just as uncomfortable as I did the day that it happened. This is more than a decade ago. So to the new guy, let's never meet again. So a couple of months ago, my family, a 4 plus 2 dogs moved into an old farmhouse in a village. The new house is a 10 minute drive from the nearest town, so it's not too far, but it's

one of two houses in the area. The other houses occupants were in the process of moving out, so they were rarely home. There was hardly anything surrounding at apart from fields, and the one tucked away house, and one road connecting us to the town. A few days after officially moving in there and unpacking most of our stuff, my parents had to go out to work. Their jobs usually mean that on weekdays I'll have to wait until they finish work for them to pick me up and drive me home.

On weekends, this means that I get to stay home unbothered until around the evening when my parents get home or my brother wakes up. He usually sleeps 16 hours at a time, due to his quote-unquote crowded schedule or something. On this particular weekend, my parents decided that after work, they were going to visit a friend's house on the other side of the area. My brother was home, but he was determined to stay asleep and told me not to bother him under any circumstances. So basically, I had the house to myself for the whole day with no jobs or any work to do, apart from walking the dog and things like that.

Around six in the afternoon, it was already getting dark outside, but not so dark that you couldn't see anything. Just dark enough that anything you could see was basically just a silhouette with vague features. I was watching YouTube in my room upstairs when I saw headlights of a car slowly making its way down the very long road towards our house. My first thought was that something was wrong, but then I realized that the car was probably for the other house next to ours. Whose occupants were just moving out? Maybe they were coming to collect their stuff or something.

Due to me not thinking much about the car, I just continued watching YouTube. Not even two minutes later, I hear my youngest dog sounding off downstairs. I instantly get the worst vibe that I felt in a long time, so I decided the best course of action would be to go downstairs and investigate what was causing my dog to bark. Since no one had been downstairs all morning, all of the lights were turned off, and it was dark, apart from a few lamps in the living room. When I got downstairs, I looked to see where the dog was barking. It was out our window.

My dog had stopped barking so much since I was there now. But just to make sure everything was fine, I looked out the window to see what was causing all of the distress. When I opened the curtains enough so that I could get a clear look out the window, I saw a car still running, sitting in front of my garden. It took a quick second, and the dark to also notice that the front gate to my garden was open. I then realized that a man I had never seen before was standing just beyond the open gate,

surveying the house, looking through the upstairs windows, presumably for human activity. I stared in bewilderment at this person for what felt like a really long moment before he turned and looked into the window that I was staring out of. We locked eyes for about three seconds. He looked as shocked as I was. Not a moment later, he started running towards the car, and in my shock, I didn't know what to do, but run upstairs and get my brother. By then, the dogs had made enough noise to wake him up, so I ran into his room and frantically yelled at him to come downstairs and look.

By the time I managed to get him downstairs, the car had turned around and was pulling away. We saw the car speed off down the driveway, and we just stood in shock for a while before either of us spoke. We decided that I should call my parents and tell them to come home and then explain what happened. After about another hour, my parents were both home, and neither of them believed me, brushing it off as just someone that was lost, and they told me there was no need to call the police, so I felt really dumb for a while. However, fast forward about three days. I was in school talking to my friends and I found out that the exact

night this occurred there was a string of serial robberies in the area. Mainly isolated farmhouses were hit. Since that day, I've started locking the front door even in the daytime, and I have a panic every time my dogs start barking or I see a car coming towards the house. Thank you for listening to this week's episode of Let's Not Meet. This week you have heard Prison Horror Story by Redditor Guess 613. Don't Open the Door by Redditor Of Core. And finally, someone tried to break into my house while I was home by a listener that asked to remain anonymous.

There's a lot of new content going up on the Patreon over at patreon.com forward slash lets not meet podcast along with the bonus episodes and one shot single story episodes that I'm doing every single week. I've also began uploading all deadly things. The short-lived horror fiction podcast that I was writing and producing prior to getting back into the Let's Not Meet. The first two episodes are available right now on the Patreon. And I'm currently writing episodes 3 and 4. Hopefully I can have those out to you as soon as possible. In addition, I'm also going to be curating some of my favorite old-time radio horror and

mystery episodes from the 30s, 40s and 50s. Now this is something that I was doing in the early days of Let's Not Meet. So if you're a veteran and you've been around since the beginning, you're probably familiar. If not, head over to patreon.com forward slash Let's Not Meet podcast this week to get your first old-time radio bonus episode. And don't forget, if you want to hear your story on the podcast, email Let'sNotMeetStories at gmail.com. I'll see you guys next week for a brand new episode of Let's Not Meet Stories at gmail.com. I'll see you guys next week for a

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